Chapter 12 #2
“Brey.” I moved to his side. There, I waited until he gave me his entire attention. When he did, I asked, “Have you ever done that to someone before?”
His eyes narrowed. Ceaseless and slowly, his thumb rubbed his lower lip.
I waited again. I held his gaze, and he held mine.
Then, finally, he sighed. “No.” He dragged his hand through his hair, causing the long strands to fall in a hypnotic disarray around his face. “I have not.”
I couldn’t have tamed my smile if I’d tried.
His mouth twitched. “You look incredibly pleased, lethal.”
“Pleased doesn’t begin to describe how I feel, Majesty.”
He was still far from mollified. He looked at me as if waiting for me to strike.
And strike I would.
An idea unfurled. One that might appease us both.
I trailed my finger up his arm. “Have you ever had a woman give you oral pleasure?” When he shook his head, I asked, “A man?”
His thumb returned to his mouth. He bit it as his head shook again.
I understood then that he wasn’t just worried about how he’d performed. He was embarrassed about his lack of experience.
I, however, was nothing short of delighted. It showed as I ordered, “Remove your pants for me.”
His eyes widened. His teeth released his thumb as his gaze became turbulent, shadowed and bright at once.
My confidence shrank. “Only if you want to, of cour—”
He stood.
I eased back in shock—and so as not to brush my nose on his lovely ass when he bent to shove his black britches down.
Leaving them at his ankles, he asked, “Should I sit? Or I could, uh…”
My eyes refused to move from his muscular thighs. I wanted to count the dark hairs dusting them and run my tongue over them.
“Ethel?”
I shook my head. “Yes,” I said, though it was more of a croak. I patted the divan with unnecessary force. “Sit.”
As he did, my gaze snagged on his manhood, and I wondered if he trimmed himself like I did. But all thoughts of grooming vanished when he spread his arms over the back of the divan, and his erection stood proud.
It twitched, perhaps from my unflinching attention.
He was rather long. Wanting to touch him, taste him, and hopefully even sit on him, I left the divan. I pushed open his knees and settled on the carpet between them. I didn’t look up at his face. I didn’t wish to take my eyes off his lovely cock.
Gently, I touched it.
Brey jumped a little bit. His cock did too.
Undeterred, I traced a thick vein in his shaft and said the thought out loud, “You’re pretty everywhere.”
It was hard to regret the compliment when he huffed, and I knew without looking that he was no longer so concerned about his inexperience. Tension stiffened the muscles in his thighs and emanated from his warm skin.
A different type of tension now. One caused by anticipation.
Intentionally, I made it worse. Made his breaths increase and catch. Not only because he’d made me suffer by scooping my arousal into his mouth until I could barely stand, but also because I couldn’t stop touching him. Couldn’t cease stroking and gently squeezing.
Cocks had never fascinated me like this.
They were a tool. A means to a pleasurable end. I’d rarely looked at them. There was no need when all I needed was to feel them. Maybe I should have paid more attention. Or maybe I was simply too fascinated with everything about this king.
Tortured groans soon replaced his hitching breaths. The fabric protested as he curled his fingers into the seat. A purred noise climbed his throat when I collected the liquid leaking from the swollen head of his cock.
I licked it off my thumb, and Brey hissed.
Wanting more, I gripped his shaft and leaned over his lap.
And almost forgot to surprise him.
Looking up, I whispered, “Just so you know, Majesty.” I licked the salty head of his cock and fluttered my lashes. “I’ve never done this to anyone.”
He inhaled sharply before releasing a guttural purr. Lips slack, he stared down at me with heavy-lidded eyes. They’d turned feline again. His question was rasped, disbelief tugging at his brows. “You haven’t had any lovers either?”
His question thrilled me—confirming my suspicions.
But I just said, “None that I’ve wanted to do this to.” Then I took him into my mouth.
Well, as much of him as I could. Except his hips jerked, causing his cock to accidentally ram down my throat.
I gagged.
A growl became a groan. A hand met the side of my head.
So I did it again. As I rose, my tongue swept along that vein under his shaft.
His fingers tangled in my hair, clenching. Breaths sawed between his teeth when my hand wrapped tight around the base of him. I kept it there as I drew him deep into my mouth—once, twice, and when I thought I might gag again, I slowly lifted my head.
My tongue flicked him as I did.
He tensed. “Fuck, I—” Another groan. This one pained.
His hips bucked right before his entire body went rigid. Something warm hit my tongue as he trembled.
His seed.
Shocked, though this had been the desired outcome, I stayed perilously still as it filled my mouth in hot and seemingly endless spurts.
Clovia had once said that it didn’t taste very good.
And I was inclined to agree.
But when Brey’s fingers left my hair and his knuckles brushed my cheek, I didn’t care. I swallowed every horrid drop of what I’d done to him as he gazed down at me with a look of intoxicated wonder.
Slowly, I removed my mouth, then placed a kiss atop the head of his cock.
Brey’s lips curved to one side as he retrieved some of his seed from my chin. When he offered it to me, I didn’t think about the taste.
Eagerly, I licked his thumb clean.
The taste didn’t matter. Not when he looked at me like that—as if he were both sated and starving.
His thumb glossed my cheekbone. “I think I just fell into inescapable love.”
He was jesting. I knew that.
My stomach still bounced. My heart still skipped far too many beats.
To hide my expression, I lowered my head to his knee and stroked his beautiful cock. I stared at it and sighed. “Me too, Majesty.” He twitched, hardening as I said, “Me too.”
His silence lured my eyes, and I found him scowling. But when I laughed, his expression eased.
I climbed to my feet and flopped onto the divan.
The king watched me for moments or minutes. A nighthawk screamed over the sea beneath the palace. Drowsy and a little bit aroused, I curled my arm to lay my head upon it.
Standing, Brey sadly pulled up his pants and tucked his erection away. “Don’t move.”
More than happy to oblige, I soon fell asleep to the sound of the ocean and the brush of wet paint on canvas.